


A Little Help From Friends

by raphaelsantiagosavedhimself



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Friendship, Gen, spoilers for TID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7640944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raphaelsantiagosavedhimself/pseuds/raphaelsantiagosavedhimself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnor and Catarina try to comfort Magnus after his break up with Camille in TID</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Help From Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr

Ragnor knocked on the door and waited impatiently. After a minute, he raised his fist to knock again just as the door was pulled open. Woolsey gave him an appraising look before speaking.

‘Goodness me, my dear fellow, you almost blend in with the grass behind you.’

Ragnor rolled his eyes. ‘Is Bane here?’

‘Why, yes,’ Woolsey said. ‘He never mentioned he was expecting guests.’

‘No worries, Woolsey,’ Magnus spoke from down the corridor. ‘Ragnor has a habit of turning up uninvited.’

‘You can’t avoid me that way,’ Ragnor said.

Magnus raised an eyebrow, then ushered Ragnor inside. Woolsey gave him one more suspicious look, before disappearing off down the hallway.

Magnus led Ragnor into the living room, where there was a fire crackling in the grate and a cluster of armchairs around the hearth. They settled down into them.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ Magnus asked.

Ragnor, not one to beat about the bush, said bluntly, ‘You broke up with Camille. I wanted to offer my congratulations.’

Something flickered across Magnus’ face. It looked like suppressed rage. ‘And where did you hear that?’

‘Really, Bane, what do you take me for?’ Ragnor asked. ‘You moved out of her house and you’ve been seen more than once in public in the company of Woolsey Scott. And both of you have a reputation, as I’m sure you are aware. Camille would never have allowed that.’

‘She didn’t keep me on a leash, you know.’

‘She didn’t need to. You kept yourself on it.’

Magnus stared at him for a moment, his eyes reflecting the flickering glow of the firelight. It made them seem more catlike somehow, making Magnus look as though he was about to pounce any second, claws extended.

The door opened and a deeply disgruntled Woolsey entered, followed by Catarina.

‘Such colourful friends you have, Magnus,’ he said.

Catarina cast an amused glance at Ragnor, who rolled his eyes again.

Woolsey left without another word.

‘Are we having a party?’ Magnus asked hopefully. ‘Is anyone else coming? You could have warned me, Ragnor! I’d have changed into something more festive.’

‘We came to see how you are,’ Catarina explained.

‘You did?’ Magnus looked genuinely puzzled.

Catarina turned a hard gaze on Ragnor. ‘You didn’t get that far then?’

‘Not quite, no,’ Ragnor said, unabashed. ‘Bane himself hasn’t yet gotten as far as offering me a drink. For someone with a penchant for throwing parties, he is a very poor host.’

Catarina sat in an armchair and clicked her fingers. Three glasses of brandy appeared on the little table before them. She gave Ragnor a look that plainly said _you could have done that yourself._

‘I’m not sure what could possibly have made you think I might not be okay,’ Magnus said, taking his glass, ‘but I assure you, I am perfectly well.’ He raised the glass to his lips and swallowed the entire contents in one.

‘Really?’ Catarina asked.

‘Why would I not be?’

‘Camille.’

‘You hated Camille.’

‘But you loved her.’

‘God knows why,’ Ragnor said.

Catarina gave him a warning look.

‘I’ve come to my senses,’ Magnus said. He clicked his fingers, refilled his glass, and knocked the whole thing back in one swallow again.

‘I was not aware you ever had any senses to begin with,’ Ragnor said, swirling the brandy in his glass.

Catarina sighed helplessly.

Minutes passed in silence, in which Magnus drank his third glass of brandy.

‘Magnus,’ Ragnor said, his voice gentle. ‘Just because we didn’t like her – and we were right not to – does not mean it’s not okay for you to be upset that you broke up.’

‘We’re here to look after you,’ Catarina added. ‘Not criticise you.’

‘I don’t need looking after,’ Magnus insisted. He filled his glass for the fourth time and Ragnor prepared to magically empty it before Magnus once again knocked the whole thing back. But this time, Magnus only sipped it.

‘How is William?’ Ragnor asked.

If Magnus was surprised by the sudden change in subject, he didn’t show it. ‘Not cursed,’ he said. ‘And his parents?’

‘Missing their daughter,’ Ragnor said. He sipped from his own glass and then said, ‘To lose all three children must be dreadful.’

‘They haven’t lost Will and Cecily.’

‘But they can never see them again. Some might say that was worse than losing someone to death,’ Ragnor said. He continued, with a pointed look at Magnus, ‘To know they are out there in the world somewhere, living a life separate from you.’

Magnus’ hand shook in the process of taking another sip of brandy, and he spilled some down his chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve.

Ragnor and Catarina exchanged glances.

‘It’s not the first time I’ve broken up with someone,’ Magnus said. He stared down into his glass, a single lock of hair falling over his forehead. By Magnus’ standards, he looked distinctly unkempt. ‘And you know, technically, she’s already dead.’ He laughed too loudly and stopped too abruptly. Then he swallowed the remainder of his fourth glass of brandy and ran a hand through his hair, sweeping back the stray lock but causing it to stick up at an odd angle instead.

Catarina looked as though she was about to speak, but Ragnor silenced her with a stern glance. Magnus was close to breaking and Ragnor didn’t want anything to prevent that from happening.

Magnus tapped his fingernails against his empty glass, creating a hollow clacking noise. It grated on Ragnor’s nerves, but he forced himself to keep quiet.

Catarina sipped her brandy.

Magnus raised his head to look at them.

The door opened for the second time. Woolsey didn’t look annoyed this time. He looked worried. Ragnor only had a moment to register this before Woolsey was shoved rudely aside and Camille stalked into the room, carrying a wooden crate. She stopped in the middle of the room, her green eyes fixed on Magnus, and dropped the crate. It hit the floor with a thud that made both Magnus and Woolsey flinch.

‘Your things,’ Camille said. ‘I’m very sorry to interrupt this little gathering—’ her eyes trailed over Ragnor and Catarina, a sneer on her face, ‘—but I thought you would like them back.’

‘Very thoughtful of you,’ Magnus said.

Ragnor noticed there was a slight slur to Magnus’ words. Camille evidently noticed too, because her sneer grew. It twisted her beautiful face into something ugly.

‘You can leave now,’ Woolsey said. His teeth had elongated into points.

Camille ignored him. ‘You moved on quickly,’ she said, her eyes still on Magnus.

‘I’m sure Woolsey could have said the same of you.’

Camille’s cool composure wavered. ‘Don’t you dare bring Ralph into this,’ she snarled.

‘Ralph was always involved in this,’ Magnus said. ‘You’ve never been capable of caring about anyone else since he died. You’re cold. Empty.’

‘I’m immortal,’ Camille said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘It happens to us all eventually. Ask your dear friend Fell.’

Ragnor was on his feet in less than a second. He dropped his glass, spilling brandy across the floor. ‘Don’t you _dare_ compare yourself to me.’

‘So you don’t feel hollow inside?’ Camille asked. There was a condescending expression of mock sympathy on her face. ‘As though nothing matters anymore? You’ve lived so long and lost so many. You just don’t see the point anymore?’

Ragnor stared at her, a lump forming in his throat.

‘Ragnor,’ Catarina said softly, reaching out for his hand.

‘We are the oldest in the room, you and I,’ Camille said. ‘We understand each other.’

Ragnor ripped his hand out of Catarina’s as green sparks shot from his fingertips. He took a step towards Camille. ‘I’m older than you,’ he said. ‘By _centuries_. And I will never be like you. I know why you are here and it is not to deliver Magnus his possessions. It is so that you can rub in his face what he’s lost. So you can see how upset he is. And I think you wanted Woolsey to see it too. To see the way you treat the people you claimed to love. Is it to assure him you’ve never loved anyone but his brother, or to make him doubt you loved even him? You’ve gotten so carried away with revenge you’ve forgotten what happened to make you like this. Just because you lost someone, does _not_ mean you get to drag the rest of us down with you.’

Camille stared at him, her mouth slightly open. Ragnor half expected her fangs to snap out and for her to attack. But instead, she turned and stalked from the room. Woolsey growled low in his throat as she passed him, but she didn’t even glance at him.

The front door slammed shut behind her.

Ragnor realised his hands were balled into fists and trembling at his sides.

Catarina got to her feet and placed her hands on Ragnor’s shoulders. ‘It’s alright,’ she said. ‘She’s gone.’

‘You shouldn’t have yelled at her,’ Magnus said. He spoke in a flat voice and his eyes were fixed on the fire.

‘You’re welcome,’ Ragnor said.

He left the room. He heard Woolsey saying, ‘Really now Magnus, if I’d known you were going to bring this much drama with you, I’d never have let you in,’ as he made his way down the hall towards the room at the far end. It was a dining room with a table big enough to seat ten. An elaborate glass fruit bowl decorated the centre, a mountain of carefully arranged fruit inside. Ragnor picked an apple from the bottom and watched as oranges, pears and grapes cascaded from the top and scattered across the polished wooden floor.

He pulled a chair back from the table, letting the legs drag across the floor, leaving long scratches, and then sat down. He took a bite of the apple.

‘Really, Ragnor?’ Catarina asked. She stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, looking around at the scattered fruit and scratched floor. ‘You couldn’t at least have had your little tantrum outside?’

‘Not having a tantrum,’ Ragnor said.

Catarina crossed the room, careful not to step on any of the fruit, and sat down in the dining chair beside Ragnor’s. ‘You should go and talk to Magnus.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he needs you to.’

Ragnor snorted. ‘Magnus doesn’t need anything from me.’

‘He’s upset, Ragnor.’

‘If he wants to pine over someone like Camille I say leave him to it, he’s beyond help anyway.’

‘Ragnor,’ Catarina said sharply. ‘This isn’t his fault. He’s upset _because_ he’s learned who she really is. And he needs us now more than ever. He needs _you_. Because you’ve always been there for him, ever since he was a child.’

‘He’s never needed me,’ Ragnor said. He took another bite of the apple and then placed it back in the fruit bowl.

‘You’ve always been there for him and he took it for granted,’ Catarina said, reaching over and taking the half eaten apple back out of the fruit bowl again and placing it on the table in front of Ragnor. ‘Don’t leave him now just because he was rude.’

‘It’s not that,’ Ragnor said, ignoring the apple. ‘I don’t like seeing him tearing himself up over _her_. She’s never deserved him. And if he’s not even going to let me help him, I don’t want to sit there and just watch him hurt himself.’

‘That’s sweet, but you’re full of shit, Ragnor.’

Ragnor looked at Catarina, startled. Catarina didn’t curse very often.

‘I believe you don’t want to see him hurt,’ Catarina said. ‘But it’s got nothing to do with whether he’ll let you help him or not. It’s because no one could help _you_. You don’t want to watch him close himself off from everything like you did because you don’t want him to feel how you feel. But there’s nothing you can do about that. All you can do is what Magnus and I did for you; make sure he knows there are still people he can love, and who love him. If we let him close that door for good, it might never open again. Don’t let him end up like Camille. Don’t let _either_ of you end up like Camille.’

Ragnor was silent a moment. Then he picked up his half eaten apple and got to his feet.

‘Where are you going?’ Catarina asked.

‘I’ll go and talk to the idiot,’ Ragnor sighed.

He saw Catarina smile as he crossed the dining room and headed back for the living room.


End file.
